Complete Beauty Novels & Stories

“It’s magical.” “It is the masterpiece of this store’s owner,” the clerk explains. “She has designed many exquisite dresses, but rumor has it that this dress is the best she could ever come up with it. The dress is perfect and it requires a lady whose beauty is perfect to properly wear it. Many have tried, but none could ever properly wear it. It’s called the Treasure of the Store, the most valuable dress of this store’s designer, and she hangs it here, patiently waiting for a woman with a perfect beauty to wear it.”

Her eyes moved between James and me. The corner of my lip curled into a smirk, and I spun the ring on my left hand. Her eyes spotted the movement, and I could see she was fighting a snarl. “James, what is this about?” she fluttered her stupid, perfect lashes at him, tilting her head to the side for a dramatic effect. Everything about her was flawless, even after being trapped in a coma for years. Her long, dark hair remained straight and shiny. Her porcelain skin was flawless, void of wrinkles, acne, or freckles. Her body somehow maintained perfection, despite only moving when I manipulated it over the years.

I really don’t expect you to morph into the perfect wife. There is, after all, no one either of us has to convince and I really can’t see you as the kind of woman who’d get up at the crack of dawn every morning to run her man to the station every morning with her coat over her pyjamas.’ ‘Don’t you?’ She was wearing a pale grey designer suit, sexy high-heeled shoes and her pale hair swept up in the height of sophistication. Steve had turned her into his ideal. The kind of woman who never had to wash a dish or iron his

Love, Jordan Cashmere. Your Beautiful Mishap.

She was complete. Finally. Truly. Absolutely. She was complete. And that completeness was beautiful. Was healing. Was exactly right. She was both. She was complete. She was exactly who she needed to be. Both. Always both. Forever both. Complete.

"Alright, what's the rating?" Beauty pauses dramatically, then announces, "A solid 9.5 out of 10. Only because I want to leave room for the next courses." The audience laughs and claps. The second course arrives: a hearty pasta dish. Beauty's eyes widen as she takes a bite. "Mmm. Okay, this is comfort food. It's rich, creamy... This tastes like my dad's cooking. He's an amazing chef, and his seasoning? Perfection." Helen gasps.

She decided to let it all out today —her hidden beauty that she rarely showcased. Deliberately, she began to comb, the teeth of the comb whispering through the strands. Each stroke smoothed and tamed, bringing order to the wildness. She worked slowly, almost meditatively, a quiet hum escaping her lips. As she neared completion, she paused, tilting her head. A perfectionist by nature, she recognized the beauty in imperfection. She gathered her long hair with her hands, holding them up perfectly with a hair tie, letting it crush against her back softly. With nimble fingers, she loosened a few strands around her face.

-Grace- My lips curled into a smile as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. This wasn’t just beauty, it was perfection. I had put in a lot of money, time, and effort to look this good for my date with Dominic Kingston tonight. From my 24-karat gold facial to the oxygen therapy, the lymphatic sculpting, the glass-skin hydration drip, and the custom ceramic blowout that took three hours. Anyone with functioning eyes should be able to acknowledge that.

It seemed like they were out of place in the bland coffee shop, they almost jumped out at you with their beauty. The woman’s skin was so soft and flawless as it stretched across her elegant face. Her big brown eyes were perfectly proportionate to her small nose and full lips. Her small body was as evenly sculpted as her face. The muscles showed even when she wasn’t flexing them and her skin tight shirt showcased her flat stomach as her dark blue jeans complimented her tight rear end.

I could tell all these without seeing her face. 'Anyone ever told you not to stare at strangers?' She turned towards me suddenly and I was too stunned to even look away. She'd skin, the color of caramel, brown eyes so deep, her noise a tad bit pointed and her pink lips in perfect arc. She looked too beautiful to be natural. How someone could look this effortlessly good with cornrows on their head was beyond me. And she looked strangely familiar too and judging from her picture on the magazine, I concluded that she must be a model I've seen on I*******m.